


Assumptions

by islandgurrl1999



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alby and Minho are hilariooo, But Newt loves it;), M/M, Newt is blushy but badass, Newtmas goodness!, Sorry all you Teresa lovers, Teresa is a jealous bitch, Thomas is a smooth lil bastard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:38:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3481592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islandgurrl1999/pseuds/islandgurrl1999
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is what was happening in my head when Newt told Thomas, "If you can figure it out, I'll get down on my knees and kiss your bloody feet.", in the Maze Runner. So...here it is, my lovelies!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assumptions

**Author's Note:**

> Huh. This is my first time attempting "smexy" times. I think it failed, my dear friends XD Please don't judge, yada yada yada, haha. Try to enjoy!!

“If you can figure it out, I’ll get down on my knees and kiss your bloody feet.” Newt grumbled to Thomas, more than a little discouraged. Thomas raised a single eyebrow at his friend, not once glancing up from the maps he was flipping through. Minho snorted a laugh from the corner, earning a glare from the second-in-command, which was met only with another snort.

“Hm. Mouth and we got a deal.” Thomas replied cooly, still not looking up from the maps. Newt almost choked. An awkward silence filled the small room and everyone looked like they were trying to figure out what Thomas had meant.

“Um...what?” Newt finally stammered, carefully studying Thomas’ face. Said boy continued his casual flipping.

“You said if I figured it out, you’ll get down on your knees and kiss my ‘bloody’ feet.”

“I know what the hell I bloo...what I said.” Newt shot, irritated that Thomas would choose now to make fun of his British accent. Another snort from Minho when he almost said “bloody” again.

“Well,” Thomas continued like Newt had never interrupted. “My answer to you is, if you get down on my knees and kiss my mouth, then we have a deal.”

Another silence, as Newt stared, dumbfounded, at his supposed friend.

“Why the hell would you even suggest that?” He stuttered, running his hand through his blonde hair. Teresa, who had been death glaring at Newt throughout the whole exchange, chose now to voice her opinion.

“Yeah, Tommy. Why would you?” She spat. Thomas’ head finally snapped up at that, and he sent a hidden glare to Teresa, something only Newt picked up on. He too, felt a little annoyed at the girl. Tommy was his nickname for Thomas, not anyone else’s. He felt something warm and fluttery in his stomach when Thomas defended that special right.

“Tommy? Only Newt calls me that.” He reminded her, a hint of warning in his voice.

“Whatever. The point is, why would you say something like that?”

Thomas looked back down at his maps, a look of slight amusement passing over his face.

“Yeah, it is a little weird dude.” Minho informed him, crossing his arms and regarding him with humor.

“Mostly because I knew you guys would react like this.” Thomas admitted, a small laugh escaping his lips. His answer caused an uproar with Alby and Minho, and Teresa’s tensed muscles loosened a little bit. But Newt couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that Thomas didn’t want to kiss him. Not that he wanted to kiss Thomas! That’d be just….weird. And maybe a little bit heavenly. Oh shuck it, Newt knew he’d fallen hard for the boy.

 _Damn hormones!_ He thought.

“Well, whatever shank. Just figure it out already. Kiss clock’s runnin’ down.” Newt shot, pumping his annoyance into his tone. Alby and Minho laughed at that one, making Newt feel a little bit better about himself, but the words that came out of Thomas’ mouth next shot down that idea.

“It’s simple. We all go into the maze, jump into that Griever hole Minho and I found, enter these words into a computer system we’ll probably find down there, that’ll shut down the maze, and we all escape through the lab of the people who put us here.”

Everyone stared at Thomas, who, in his tangent, had put his hands flat on the table and was shifting his serious gaze to each member of the room. Newt noted, a little blushingly, that Thomas held his eyes the longest.

“Now where the shuck did you get that?” Alby asked slowly, shaking his head in fascination. Thomas gave him a small smile.

“It came with the job description.” Minho laughed and clapped Thomas on the back, also shaking his head. Newt looked at the boy with disbelief, awe passing over him. However, after the initial euphoria of the discovery was over, Newt started to notice the quick looks that Minho and Alby were shooting at him. Their far from subtle glances annoyed him, and he almost asked them what they wanted before it struck him. Thomas’ kiss. He glanced quickly at Thomas, and, sure enough, he was looking at him expectantly. A look at Teresa’s face told him she did not want it to happen. Newt bit back a scowl. What, did she think she owned the Greenie, just because they had known each other before the maze and could communicate telepathically? Oh. Okay, maybe Teresa had a point there. No matter. Newt had no intentions of getting his hopes up only to have his heart crushed by the bloody shank in the end. He shifted his weight between his legs and started for the door.

“Congratulations, Tommy. A bloody good lot that did to his ego, mates.” Newt said, casually reaching for the door handle and spinning the door open. Alby and Minho snickered and, whether they were laughing with him or against him was anyone’s guess. An indescribable look passed over Thomas’ face, but Newt was already out the door before he could question it.

The cool night breeze did wonders as it touched Newt’s flushed skin, he hadn’t realized how hot it was in the stupid Map Vault. He shivered a little, though not because of the cold he realized. It was something much more deep. Thomas. Tommy. The bloody shank he’d fallen in love with. Newt punched his hands into the pockets of his white hoodie and walked to the Homestead slowly, his head bowed, deep in thought. He had never felt like this before, in the whole space of the year and half he’d been in the Glade. What was so different now? He shook off the slightly disturbing thoughts and focused his eyes on the soft light seeping out of the Homestead. Suddenly, a hand reached out from behind him and snatched his arm. He stiffened and turned quickly, loosening the hand’s grip on him and swinging his leg out at his attacker’s head. The person ducked quickly and Newt’s leg sliced the air above Teresa’s head. As soon as his leg landed, she popped back up and twisted her fist in his collar, backing him up to slam him against the wall of Frypan’s kitchen. The attack was unexpected, and the impact of being shoved into the wall knocked all the air out of Newt’s lungs.

“What the bloody hell?!” He panted, desperately trying to get the oxygen back into his bloodstream. Teresa glowered at him, a look of pure hate in her eyes.

“Stay away from him, you bastard.” She hissed, her voice laced with venom. Annoyance filled Newt’s veins and he knocked her hand away from him.

“Stay away from who?” He growled back, straightening his wrinkled hoodie. She scowled  at him and he returned it without question. Who did this bitch think she was, pushing him around like he was some kind of klunk?

“Thomas, you dumbass.” She snarled, putting her hands on her hips. Newt mimicked her stance and glared at her. He really would’ve liked it right about then if he was just a few inches taller so that he could glare down at her, that always had a desired effect. But his lithe body type made him stand eye level with her, much to his chagrin. No matter, he could still beat the bloody hell out of her if needed.

“And why would I need to stay away from him?” He demanded, pumping as much ice as he could into his voice.

“Because he’s mine.” The way she said it sent a small shiver of fear down Newt’s spine. He flinched involuntarily at it. Albeit it small, it was still there and it unsettled him a little. He shook it off and concentrated on the girl in front of him.

“I’ll do whatever the bloody hell I want and you will just have to sit back and enjoy, won’t you? Just because you came the day after him doesn’t mean klunk around here, bitch. So I’ll talk to Tommy if I want, I’ll laugh with Tommy if I want, I’ll hang out with Tommy if I want, and I’ll bloody shack up with that bastard if. I. Want. Do I make myself clear?” He snapped, shoving his face directly in front of Teresa’s. She looked a little bit startled, but she covered it up good.

“You made the wrong kind of enemy today, you stupid oaf. And I’m going to make you burn.” She turned on her heel and stalked away towards the Homestead, leaving an angry Newt behind. His pulse was in his ears, rapid, sharp beats that made his head hurt. Anger filled his blood and he stood for a while, breathing hard, until he started furiously towards the Deadheads so that he could think in peace and privacy. He angrily plopped himself down on his usual log, and buried his face in his hands. Weird things were happening in his head, and it all revolved around one person, no need to name him. All of a sudden, a twig snapped behind him and he tensed, sitting straight up. Had Teresa really followed him here? That stupid mother klunk was going to get it.

“I still want that kiss.” Came a familiar voice as he stood up and whirled around to face the object of his desire.

“T-Tommy! I…what are you doing…?” Newt stammered, pausing to lick his lips nervously. Thomas had taken two large steps to close the boundary between them and was standing right in front of Newt, his hand wrapped around Newt’s wrist, his eyes locked on the shorter boy’s lips.

“I want what’s mine.” Thomas positively growled at him, sending a hot flash down Newt’s spine.

“I….” Newt was cut off by the harsh press of Thomas’ mouth against his. He let out a squeak of surprise and his hands scrambled weakly for purchase on Thomas’ chest. Thomas, meanwhile, had wrapped his arm around Newt’s waist and pulled him flush against his own body, holding him there in an iron grip. Newt let his tensed muscles relax and melted into him, finally kissing back with a furious passion. Thomas growled into his mouth and Newt almost keeled over in a heap of trembling nerves. Thomas gripped him tighter, the embrace the only thing keeping him up on his wobbly knees. Thomas’ hand found its way up his shirt and he began unashamedly running over Newt’s lean chest. Newt whimpered as Thomas groped his body, just as said boy sucked at his bottom lip, biting at it and no doubt leaving it bruised. Newt loved the feeling of Thomas’ hands all over him, claiming him in the dirtiest way. He loved the feeling that his body was being used by the boy in front of him. The feeling only escalated when Thomas grabbed both of his hands with one of his and pinned him against a tree, forcing his wrists above his head. Thomas kept kissing the living daylights out of him, the dirty, wet slide of their tongues making him light headed. A thought pushed itself into his hazy, pleasure clouded brain. Did Thomas want sex with him? Would he give in? He groaned when Thomas left his mouth to bite viciously at his neck, leaving huge, purple bruises on his formerly untainted throat. He let out a little cry when Thomas forced his legs apart obscenely, shoving his thigh in between them. Yes, he would give in. Yes, he would give Thomas his body. Newt squirmed into him, two of Thomas’ fingers already shoved down his pants and feeling around for his tender love hole. He shifted to help him find it, and felt his red kissed lips go slack as Thomas stuck the tip of his pointer finger into his body.

“What the shuck?” A voice floated down towards them on the wind, making both boys freeze. Thomas’ mouth was still inches away from Newt’s, so Newt could feel his warm breath when he cursed.

“Shit!”

Quickly, the fingers left Newt’s asshole and he almost groaned at the loss. Thomas sent him an apologetic glance and reluctantly released Newt’s hands from above his hands.

“Is there any shank face down there?” Gally’s irritated voice came clear over the trees. Newt rolled his eyes before clearing his throat.

“Just me, Gally.” He called, trying not to notice that his voice was three shades higher and a little rough. Thomas grinned at him before stepping back in and latching on to Newt’s neck. Said boy hissed in surprise and his hands flew to Thomas’ back.

“Oh, okay Newt. Sorry about that.” Gally answered. Newt tried to ignore Thomas, who was currently nursing a hickey on Newt’s neck. “You just down there thinking?”

Newt let out a strangled noise, cursing his bad luck that Gally wanted to talk while Thomas was...doing what he was doing.

“Um, yeah.” He cried back, his voice slightly shaking out of control.

“Are you okay down there?”

Thomas bit extra hard, making Newt practically scream his answer.

“Yes!”

Thomas snickered before travelling up his neck to his ear.

“Tell him what you’re really doing. Tell him you’re about to get fucked.” Thomas whispered in his ear, making him shiver and whimper a little bit.

“Are you sure? I’m coming down there.”

“No! I mean, no I’m fine. I’m just thinking.” Newt shouted back and Gally’s rustling footsteps halted. Newt could almost see him shrugging.

“Okay, then. I’ll tell the rest of the guys to leave you alone.”

“Thanks, Gally.”

Gally’s footsteps faded away until Newt could no longer hear them. Almost instantly, Thomas’ fingers were back down his pants. He let out a groan and knew that it was the first of many noises he would be making that night. Hastily, he dropped to his knees, pulling Thomas’ pants with him.

“This one is for you, Teresa.” He said, earning a smirk from Thomas. Then, he dove in, mouth open wide, and his brain shut off.

That night, no one got any sleep, and if you asked any one of them, they would say that Newt moans as loud as a cat in the summer heat and Thomas has the worst potty mouth.


End file.
